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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25084690">Next Step.  1/1</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/punky_96/pseuds/punky_96'>punky_96</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Devil Wears Prada (2006)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, deepwaterprompt, mentions MirAndy but don't blink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:21:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,071</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25084690</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/punky_96/pseuds/punky_96</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Deepwater Prompts:  #1919. The next universe over was in the middle of an apocalypse.  Reality grew unstable, and we were all warned to stay indoors until it passed.<br/>Deepwater Prompts:  #1896.  My father’s passport was shiny and pale blue.  Inside, strange symbols were stamped in silver ink.  “It’s a very special passport,” he said.</p>
<p>Summary:  Next universe over problems, shiny pale blue passport with strange symbols, and a decision to make.</p>
<p>A/N:  for Kaj, Curly, and Smirnoff (and all of the Skypers too)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Next Step.  1/1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>see prompt<br/>see many much prompts<br/>like prompts<br/>examine prompts<br/>flip prompts over<br/>pick up prompts<br/>shake prompts<br/>rattle prompts<br/>look around for other prompts<br/>select a few favorite prompts of the day<br/>smash them together<br/>stir<br/>stir<br/>stir<br/>do a little dance<br/>sing a little song<br/>chanting really isn’t out of the question<br/>hey presto look at my prompt now</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>Next Step.  1/1</em>
  </b>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The newsfeeds said they could come out now.  She wondered whether that was true and going deeper she questioned the story behind it in the first place.  If the next universe over was in the middle of an apocalypse, then why would that mean they had to stay indoors until it passed?  Wasn’t there a separation between the universes?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reality grew unstable.  That was what was reported to them.  How did they get that information?  How pervasive was the problem?  Was that universe’s reality intertwined with her universe’s reality?  If so, then why were they considered different universes?  Wouldn’t it just make one an undiscovered country of the other as it were?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Considering the family ‘emergency box’ hidden in the cupboard under the stairs, she thought about her father’s shiny, pale blue passport with strange symbols in silver ink on the inside.  She had only caught the glimpse the one time, before he’d packed the lot away.  “It’s a very special passport,” he said.  Then he bopped her on the nose and tucked the box under his arm and made his way down the hall.  </span>
  <span>Once it became her duty to care for the box, she didn’t linger as she didn’t want to damage the story of her father in her heart and mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every ten years or so, the box was taken out and updated.  When she and her sister had moved to college, he would update them on the status of the kit on the next visit home again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only in an emergency, she was to take the box out and pack the contents into a bag.  She was to gather all members of the household that she possibly could.  In the last minute, she was to close up the house, turn off the lights, and step into the cupboard under the stairs.  She could take a torch with her, since it was acknowledged that the cupboard in the dark would be crowded and creepy.  They didn’t want to leave the house unlocked or the lights on as they had to act like they were on a trip and leave the house tucked in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her father had died nearly twenty years ago.  She wondered what he would have made of this shelter in place in response to the problem of a different universe.  Perhaps she should go outside and see for herself what has happened on the other side of the front door that she had been cooped up behind for the last 16 weeks.  There had been silence the first month.  Then there had been sirens and sirens and sirens.  With her hearing she could track them coming and going from different directions.  The newsfeeds had been unremarkably contradictory or vague in their reports.  Then one night there had been a series of pops, booms, flashing bright lights, and low rumbling.  Antique alarms malfunctioned and were blaring their disgust with the world into the dark night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her mother might have enjoyed the adventure of it all.  Traveling into the unknown of the mysterious circumstances and the government cover up and mix up and mash up.  Then again, her mother, famous archaeologist, Miranda Priestly, had disappeared with her lover, Andrea Sachs somewhere in the vicinity of Bermuda.  She had never known what to make of it when a pale blue passport had appeared for Andrea, and then both of their passports had disappeared by the next time she checked the box.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In fact, hers was the only passport with the strange symbols in silver ink left in the box.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nearly ten years ago, her sister had gone to work.  The next day she had reported her missing.  The following night, government agents showed up at the front door.  She was missing in action.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How was it possible for her sister to BE missing in action when she was not a soldier, or a spy.  Neither was she a tinker or a tailor for that matter.  Yet, there they were sunglasses well after sundown, comfortable shoes, all black suits with no distinguishing marks of any kind and even less personality in the faces or the voices.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In an emergency:  pack up the kit, close up the house, with a flashlight ready, lock yourself in the cupboard…  For all the years of her childhood, those were the directions she had recited with her father.  Until her mother went missing and his doctor gave him the news.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then a final instruction was added to the lot:  place the edge of your passport here against the back of the cupboard door and don’t let go.  No matter what happens--don’t let go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Painted or drawn on the door just to the left of the door knob there was a thin black rectangle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She followed all of the steps only to wonder about her sanity as she ducked away from the closet rod.  Perhaps after 16 weeks with just her cat, she was the one gone round the bend.  Opening the door again, she grabbed the cage from the back of the cupboard.  If this passport took her somewhere, then she wasn’t leaving the darn cat.  He would pull up the carpet, shred the curtains, and sleep on her pillow if given the chance.  “Firecat?”  She called out to him.  Thankfully, he came running when he heard the food bag getting shoved into the back pack.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a meow Firecat followed three treats into the crate.  Then turned eyes of the betrayed on her when she locked the metal door.  Slipping her fingers into the handle, she lifted up her precious cargo.  The treats were tucked into her back pocket.  An indignant growl punctuated the return to darkness when she flicked the light off once again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Back in position, she shrugged her shoulders and took a deep breath.  With Firecat’s cage in one hand, she awkwardly held the flashlight at a bad angle with the same fingers.  Her other hand held the pale blue passport with her photo, though the name was in strange symbols.  Fingers on the bottom and thumb on top, she lifted the short edge of the passport to the rectangle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cassidy felt a tug on the passport.  Instinct told her to let go, but she heard the direction in her mind once more, “No matter what happens--don’t let go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Firecat meowed when she dropped the flashlight and they were pulled through the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Fin.</b>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>x</span>
</p>
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